Fall. Is. My. Very. Favorite. Given my sensitivity to any temperature above 80 and below 70, this time of year really does it for me. Crisp leaves, hay, anything edible or drinkable containing pumpkin, the beginning of runny noses and hacking up a lung (oh wait, I really don't love that part), cold nights and sunny days, God's tapestry in the changing trees....Fall makes my heart sigh happy sighs.
So, this year we decided (I decided and Tim went along with it) to haul the family up to a Fall festival to remember. At Miller Farms (about an hour north of us), you climb aboard a festive white trailer, pulled by a John Deer machine. The driver, adorned in overalls, drops you off at field filled with produce of every type and you pick until your hearts content. Succulent squash, plump pumpkins, ripened tomatoes, perfectly shaped corn ears, flaming red peppers, deep purple eggplant...you get the idea. The wind blows through your hair as you walk the fields, your children in tow humming songs about Jesus and marveling at the wonder of how all this fresh produce grows. Hot cider awaits at the conclusion of your hour long tractor ride, you load up the children and your healthy produce into your car and smile as the kids sleep the entire way home.
As the (non-overalled) man shouted "vominose," we were on our way. He was actually a rather plump Spanish speaking com padre sporting a fluorescent yellow t-shirt. Within 2 seconds of taking off we realized that our dear Squirt was not havin' the whole trailer ride concept. She cried her most terrified cry each and every time the wheels would start turning and clapped her most ferocious clap each time the wheels stopped. What else could we do but laugh at her unfounded anguish.
About 10 minutes in, after we stopped to pick corn from the tall Field of Dreamish stalks, we realized that the dreamy breeze we all envisioned wasn't going to be a part of our picture. Mr. Sun was feelin' good that day and had made sure that no cloud friends would be paying us a visit. We were in the fields, meaning the only shade in sight was found in the wheel wells of the John Deere. And it was hot. The kind of hot that leaves your butt permanently soggy, your face flushed and your limbs scratchy and irritated from the prickly fields you're walking through. Despite a couple of us nearly passing out in the red pepper field, we chose to laugh through the sweat beads and forged on.
The produce was amazing. We filled up bag after bag after bag with more food than we would know what to do with the following day. After the 3rd stop, we were all about ready to call it a semi-productive day. No no no. Turns out we had only completed a third of our fall journey. Our guide, rather inappropriately coined "Tuna" by our gang, blessed us with another 2 hours of scorching field fun. Baby Nash had officially turned into a roasted turnip by that point (Kevin kept him properly covered up, raising his body temperature to that of a 350 degree oven, Daisy and Dude resorted to hanging out under the tractor and Squirt was too exhausted to cry and just sat on Tim's lap, expressionless. But we laughed through it. Because, despite our uncomfortable and dehydrated state, it really was quite amusing. In so many ways.
After illegally picking 7 foot tall corn stalks to use as decoration on our front porches, we opted out of the hot cider...can't imagine why, threw our whiny kids (selves) into the car and listened to a repeat of the drive up. Their darling eyes didn't close for a good 35 minutes, which was NOT as planned.
All in all, we came home with 5 bags of beautiful produce. Onions, beets, red pepper, corn, tomatoes, eggplant, pumpkins, cabbage, basil, potatoes, leek, carrots....we ate vegetarian for a week following. The kids enjoyed about 1/3rd of the outing and tolerated the remainder with an impressive amount of good behavior. And it turns out my gal pal, Anne, and her witty and sarcastic husband, Kevin, are the very best choice for Miller Farms. We laughed and laughed and went home feeling like our fall festivities were well worth the blood, sweat and tears.
Squirt used that little apple as her source of comfort. She held it the entire 3 hours and took bites whenever the tractor took off so as to squelch her tears.
The afore-mentioned oven baby. Note, Kevin and Anne both wore jeans.
Most women find it hard to resist checking out my man's rump. It's ok Annums. I don't blame you.
This cool machine dug up the dirt and out came hundreds of potatoes. Just like that.
I introduce "Tuna." The best non-English speaking produce picking leader one could ask for. The children adored him. He received this endearing nickname after continually telling us we could pick "tuuuuna" in one particular field. All four adults heard the same thing and could not figure out what he was truly saying. We figured there wasn't actually tuna available for picking. Turns out he was saying "turnips." Thus, Tuna was born.
Tuna helped us dig up our carrots. I loved watching Dude munch on a carrot that he had just picked out of the dirt with his own little hands.
These would be the tall stalks Kevin and I non-discreetly ripped out of the dirt.
Pretty huh? We made potato leek soup, grilled veggies in tomato sauce, salsa, balsamic glazed carrots and grilled corn.
Tim decided that this will be an every other year outing. And we'll make sure the following conditions will exist...#1.It will be under 75 degrees. #2. Bring a massive thermos of beer, I mean water, for the 3 hour trek. #3. Bring gloves and wear pants. #4. Don't bring Squirt or any child under the age of 3.5. #5. Wear sunblock. #6. Bring the Lubbers with.
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